


this game is not played alone

by orphan_account



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Relationship Study, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"the thing is: he isn’t sure if this is a new development, or if this little stutter in their perfect stride has always been there."</p><p>kaoru, and the art of falling behind</p>
            </blockquote>





	this game is not played alone

**Author's Note:**

> so??? i rewatched ouran in like a day and wowie wow i'd forgotten how g o o d this show is??? and how much i love all of them?? esp this boi dang??? i wanted to explore a little bc their relationship is super interesting, and i've never written for this fandom so i rlly hope i did this boi justice

 

he is one step behind. 

the thing is: he isn’t sure if this is a new development, or if this little stutter in their perfect stride has always been there. 

the hand in his hand was always his brother’s, and the hand in his brother’s was always his; the one that was not him was hikaru, the one that was not hikaru was him; two halves of the same whole, a single soul in two bodies—

(he remembers once, a little myth the literature teacher mentioned in middle school; two star-crossed lovers take their own lives together, and are born again as twins— a new, single soul in two bodies, two halves of the same whole; he had looked at hikaru and wondered if he had been the one to come up with that plan, as he usually is, and then laughed at himself, because hikaru was glancing right back at him with a little wiggle of his eyebrows that no one else caught)

(he looks back and wonders why he didn’t even question it, the certainty of that myth; he had just assumed: we’ve been together all of our lives, it’s not that hard to believe we were still holding hands in our previous ones)

(besides, he thinks, it’s just a story; my belief doesn’t matter, because it’s just a story)

and their story is a simple one: identical, red-headed, devilish twins; always together and never apart, hands clasped from that day in the snow to the night their maid disappeared to the day they opened the music room doors. never apart and always together, same classes same hair cut same house same room same face, no need for two textbooks because they could always just share. 

their story is a simple one: they had each other so there was no need for anyone else, a world so small it was big enough only for the two of them, a world so small they could only see each other, hear each other, know each other—

(what was the point of knowing others if others didn't want to know them; what was the point in telling others apart if no one could tell them apart; what was the point)

(identical, identical, they clung to that, their thin security blanket in a world that didn’t care enough to try and take it away; the metaphorical lock over their hearts, if you will, strong enough in it’s impossibility to keep everyone and anyone out— their classmates and their teachers and their relatives and— and their parents, sometimes, their mother; their mother could barely tell who was who)

(only they knew, hikaru and kaoru— and sometimes he wondered if they really did, with all the shared interests and shared thoughts and shared feelings; they were two different people but they always knew, they always knew when something was wrong with the other, all the little telling signs that no one else would ever pick up on if they couldn’t even distinguish one from the other)

their story is a simple one: no one could ever ever tell them apart, until one day, someone came along who could. 

and he is one step behind. 

their tiny tiny world expands and the solid ground quakes beneath them— beneath him, because hikaru has already taken the first step off without even realizing it, but. but kaoru does, because kaoru realizes these things, and he always has. 

he is one step behind; he’s gotten so used to having his brother by his side that he’d almost forgotten what the back of their head looks like, but he knows very vividly what the back of her head looks like, what the sound of his brother’s footsteps sound like when they’re not in sync with his own. he knows what the back of his own head looks like now, and wonders what hikaru would do if they traded places this time. 

(they trade places all the time, call each other the wrong name and talk to people with pitched voices who can never tell the difference anyways, but this time; this time, he doesn’t think hikaru realizes there are even different places to be traded, but; but)

(but kaoru does; his brother is one step ahead of him instead of in step beside him, and he is acutely aware that he’s probably the only one who knows this)

they share everything— a bed, clothes, feelings experiences thoughts, but they are two separate people, and now his thoughts are his own and his fear is his own and he never wants his brother to fear like this, so he will never let him— he is selfish, he is extremely selfish sometimes, but he will not hold his brother back, no matter how afraid he is, no matter how pathetically alone he feels, no matter how lost he is on his own, by himself (because they are never alone, always together, never apart). 

he is one step behind; he’s not sure how he got there; he’s not sure how to close the distance, either. 

 

 


End file.
